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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23215471">7.21%</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/1989Rad/pseuds/1989Rad'>1989Rad</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Flirting but make it digital, Getting Together, Height Differences, Kisses, M/M, Oblivious Tim Drake, Tim Drake is a stalker even when he isnt trying to be, flexible sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:29:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,534</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23215471</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/1989Rad/pseuds/1989Rad</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The number stared back at him. Tim has spent 7.21% of his social media time on Damian’s profiles. Not watching random videos. Not reading his own dashboard. No. He spent it scrolling through content created by, or concerning, Damian Wayne.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake &amp; Damian Wayne, Tim Drake/Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>563</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>7.21%</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Tim is 27 in this and Damian is 24 for context. Placed Damian’s birthday with no real merit because there is also no canon answer but there is a Reddit thread where one person confidently answers “August” so. </p><p>Also, I originally included math behind the numbers, basing it off my own work habits (because my job is digital) adding a few more hours because Tim deff spends more time online, taking the percentage of my social media vs work time, and figuring out what would be a concerning percentage to spend on one person's social profiles, and then removed it from the story. Why? Because I realized no one wants to read that breakdown.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This couldn’t be right. </p><p>Tim closed his email, spun in his desk chair, and opened the email again.</p><p>No change.</p><p>7%. That’s what it said. Tim rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. </p><p>He clicked through to the deep dive. Technically it was 7.21%. Tim programmed the report to round down. Remove any level of unnecessary detail. But this? This was a necessary detail. He returned to the original page. </p><p>7.21% of his overarching social media usage for the last month. Social media was only a sliver of his time spent online but he would be lying to himself if he didn’t acknowledge it was a rather large sliver. </p><p>Most of Tim’s life was spent in front of a screen, and a large portion of it, on social media. So 7.21%? That was nothing to sneeze at. For someone else it might be, but for Tim? No sneezing. </p><p>Tim wrinkled his nose and closed his email app. He lent back in his chair to stare at the ceiling, letting his arms dangle. His phone seemed to pull him to the floor.</p><p>His social media usage was split based on profiles. Members of the super community. Gotham elites. YouTube personalities he liked. Etc. It could also be split by platform but Tim found that information less useful. </p><p>No one had ever gained such a percentage without a reason. </p><p>A case. A change in behavior. A small obsession with watching an online personality try makeup trends that made them look like dragons. Not all reasons were good ones, (like the month he spent stalking Steph’s new cop boyfriend) but they were always there. Something the data could point back to. What he needed was a proper reason. Numbers don’t lie. </p><p>Tim jailbroke his phone the second he got it, despite it operating on Wayne Tech. He built the app to rip data concerning his phone usage, send it to a backend server, and then run a cron job before formatting it into an email each month.</p><p>The program was meant to curb his social media use. Ensure he was focused on the work, but also not so focused that he never had fun. It was a fine line, but optimizing one’s life is never easy.</p><p>This though? This was not the information he was expecting. </p><p>“7.21%,” Tim whispered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut. He could hear his heartbeat. Loud. Exposed. The pulse clear in his palm where his phone rested.</p><p>He thought of Damian’s profile pictures. Saw them, each of them, clear as day on the black of his eyelid. Tim popped forward and lifted the phone back to his face. </p><p>The number stared back at him. Tim has spent 7.21% of his social media time on Damian’s profiles. Not watching random videos. Not reading his own dashboard. No. He spent it scrolling through content created by, or concerning, Damian Wayne.</p><p>When did he do it? Sure, he checked up on Damian, always had. But to this extent? Tim opened the pie chart to see everyone else’s names. There was no denying it. Damian’s specific profiles held a larger portion of his social media time than Cassie, Bart, and Conner’s profiles combined? </p><p>Maybe Damian hacked it? Was playing a prank to mess with him.</p><p>Tim pursed his lips. </p><p>No. He would have noticed. Damian was clever but hacking was the one area Tim was sure he could catch Damian.</p><p>Tim rolled his shoulders and noted the heat he was feeling. He was sweating. Heart beating. Skin sweltering. </p><p>No. </p><p>Tim swallowed nothing, took a deep breath, and let it go.</p><p>The last time Tim noticed an unreasonable jump in his social media behavior was when he met a handsome National Geographic photographer at a charity event. Took three months to realize it wasn’t a sudden fascination with Antarctica driving him to check his account.</p><p>Tim was always slow when it came to matters of the heart. A fault his exes often complained about.</p><p>But this? THIS could not be a matter of the heart. Could it?  </p><p>Tim noted a slight sting in his thumb. He was biting at the nail. </p><p>Anxious tick. Sweating. Elevated heartbeat. Stalking. </p><p>All signs pointed to... majorly crushing on Damian Wayne. </p><p>“No,” Tim pushed the palms of his hand into his closed eyes. “No. No. No freak'n way.”  </p><p>He clenched his face and wished for the number to disappear. No way could he have developed a crush on Damian Wayne.</p><p>DAMIAN! Wayne. </p><p>Damian AL-GHUL Wayne.</p><p>Damian Al-Ghul WAYNE.</p><p>“Oh my god,” Tim sputtered before frantically tapping on the screen, “Bruce can never know.”</p><p>He deleted the email. Paused. Checked to make sure it was deleted. Emptied his history three times. Paused. Did it all one more time. </p><p>“Maybe I should just burn my phone,” he muttered before slumping over defeated, clenching the device.</p><p>His stomach was fluttering. Embarrassment or excitement? </p><p>“No algorithm to tell you that.” Tim smiled at his own joke before letting out a sigh. His hand itched and he lifted his phone.</p><p>Tim bit down on the inside of his lip before opening Damian’s Instagram. The smiling profile pic of the Batbrat welcomed him. Tim frowned at the way his chest warmed. </p><p>He scrolled. Damian with his dog. Another with his cat. Jon re-enacting a Tiktok. Dick, with no shame, holding up a newspaper with Damian’s face on it. Damian offering a half-smile while sitting on a rooftop. </p><p>Tim slowed his scroll. His eyes focused on Damian’s. He had seen these pictures before, but not like this. </p><p>In these past few years, Damian had really grown. The best of Thalia and Bruce (both of whom were already extremely attractive) rolled into one. </p><p>He was twenty-four now. Graduated from college a month ago. Heading to medical school in the fall. He was still Damian, but now suddenly so much older.</p><p>Tim kept scrolling and a familiar picture appeared. Graduation. The whole family. Tim twisted his lips. </p><p>He was standing next to Damian. Since when did he stand next to Damian in pictures? Normally Damian was placed between Dick and Bruce but no. Tim was next to him. </p><p>He pinched the screen. They looked nice. The contrasts in skin tone and demeanor, more like compliments than opposites. Damian was smiling more broadly in this picture while Tim’s smile was small. Polite. </p><p>Tim’s eyes softened before realizing he looked stupidly short next to Damian.  </p><p>He kept scrolling. Tim wasn’t self-conscious of his height, so much as he preferred to not be reminded of it. His minor request to the gods that he did not end up as short as his dad was unheard. The gods also mocked him by surrounding him with giants like Jason, Kon, Bruce and now Damian. </p><p>Stupid. </p><p>A picture in his lab coat. A selfie with his car (the corvette Tim secretly loved). A beautifully staged photo of him with the violin. Who took these? Tim didn’t think any of Damian’s friends were aspiring photographers.</p><p>Tim scrolled fast and stopped about nine months ago on Damian’s feed. This time last year, Damian’s Instagram was composed of one thing and one thing only. His pets. Dog. Cat. Cow. Turkey. Each spaced out by long hiatuses. When did this change? When did Damian decide it was time to show his face more often on Instagram? Was this a Wayne PR thing no one told him about?</p><p>He intended to scroll back up, but his thumb stuttered when a pic caught his eye.</p><p>Oh my. </p><p>Beach picture. Some spring break events Damian barely participated in. Tim’s breath held short. </p><p>Damian was gorgeous. His skin flushed by the sun. He was laughing. Actually laughing! Jon’s arm was slung around his shoulders. Oh my god, those shoulders. </p><p>Tim sunk further into his chair and shifted his hips. No way was he was gonna get excited at a shirtless picture. He was too old for that. Had to be. But those shoulders? That chest? </p><p>He flicked his thumb to close the app before standing up to pace around his bedroom.</p><p>Ok. Maybe he was a tiny bit attracted to Damian. Fine. Whatever. Fine.</p><p>But that was it! </p><p>It made sense, the more Tim thought about it. He had been going through a bit of a dry spell lately. It wasn’t that Tim was a very sexual guy, not like Dick or Kon, but he still had needs. </p><p>Needs that were clearly not being met because he was thirsting after a demon gremlin who tried to kill him… </p><p>Maybe that description was a bit unfair.</p><p>Tim flopped on his bed. The satin pillowcase helped cool his skin. </p><p>Ok. Whatever. Attraction? He suppressed that before. Had to when he was a closeted bisexual on a team of stupidly hot meta-human teenagers. He could get over this. Turn it off. </p><p>But still, Tim thought of that number. </p><p>7.21%.</p><p>It couldn’t have been spent looking at Damian’s Instagram. There was not enough thirst bait content to sustain such a high percentage. Plus after a certain point, It was pretty much a shrine to his cat and dog and although Tim liked animals, he wasn’t one to follow pet centered accounts online. </p><p>Maybe something else. Tim opened Damian’s Twitter, and read the first tweet. </p><p>@DamianWayne<br/>
“I hope this email finds you well.” It didn’t. Now, what do you want?<br/>
[ATTACHED: Picture of a pissed off black cat]</p><p>Tim flipped his phone down on the mattress as he suppressed a smile. He could see Damian’s expression. The quiet annoyance, and knew exactly which of Wayne Enterprise’s employees started their emails that way. He flipped his phone over to read more.</p><p>News articles, spattered with jokes used to let loose frustration. Some centered on college, others work. Some were so perfectly targeted to a person, Tim couldn’t help but question why anyone else would like it.</p><p>Time passed as Tim continued to scroll before hitting a lull in content. Tim checked the date. About 9 ish months ago. Similar to his Instagram. Why? Tim rolled on his back and let his phone lay on his chest. About 8-9 months ago, Damian was in the first semester of his senior year at college. He officially revealed a desire to go to med school overworking at Wayne Enterprise around the same time. That shouldn’t prompt an increase in utilizing social media though. If anything it should correspond with a drop off to focus. </p><p>Tim smiled a bit more, remembering one of the tweets. Damian was really funny. Always had been. Had always been. They weren’t always extremely complex jokes, but just imagining Damian’s face was enough to make him laugh. There was something in his dry tone and delivery that stood out in the family. From Dick to Cass, every Bat seemed to have their own style of joking. </p><p>It was necessary to have a sense of humor to do their work. If you didn’t have one, you’d probably lose your mind. Damian’s humor used to be focused on putting others down, commenting on Steph’s body, or mocking Tim’s skill set, but those days were gone. Any teasing was rooted in something more affectionate. </p><p>Damian could still be cutting. In the boardroom or battlefield, he still knew the exact phrase would hurt. Tim shuttered. He was glad to no longer teeter on that knife edge. </p><p>Lifting his arms, he clicked on a link to Damian’s Youtube channel. Violin videos. Some recordings of classic pieces, some covers of current radio songs. Tim had listened to these before. Played one or two while working, so finding them wasn’t a surprise, but hearing the sound now felt different. </p><p>He breathed in and felt the caress of the music. Laid in the melody of Damian’s interpretation of Concerning Hobbits from the Lord of the Rings. The muscles in his face fell. His mind cleared. He reopened Instagram as the song continued to echo and entrap him.</p><p>Tim could sleep to this. Was sure of it. He blinked and blam. </p><p>His phone slammed him square in the nose. </p><p>Illusion over. Tim groaned and removed the phone before rubbing his nose. Not hard enough to bruise. He rolled to the side and unlocked his phone only to feel his heart sink in horror. </p><p>He had liked a picture on Damian’s Instagram. </p><p>A shirtless beach picture. </p><p>A shirtless beach picture posted 3 months ago. </p><p>Tim looked at the clock. No. Worse.</p><p>Tim had liked a shitless beach picture that Damian Wayne posted three months ago at 3:37 AM. </p><p>Tim unliked it, locked his phone, and threw it across the bed. </p><p>Sitting up, he stared. No way Damian would notice. Doesn’t the notification go away if you unlike it? It has to. Maybe he could test it by liking and unliking one of Steph’s photos? Then he would have to explain why to Steph. Or just see if she says something. But he probably liked all of Steph’s photos. And he couldn’t tell her why. ‘Cause she totally would need to know if she did notice. And he couldn’t lie, because she would pry it out of him. And he unliked it super fast! No way Damian noticed.</p><p>Tim grabbed at his hair, stretched, stood up, sat back down and stood up again. Oh my god. He looked at the clock. Damian was asleep. Had to be asleep. Should be asleep? Bats like never sleep. </p><p>Holy nuts, this was a nightmare. </p><p>Tim went to get a drink. No way was he getting to bed any time soon. </p><p>-</p><p>If there was one thing Tim learned early on as Robin, it was that mistakes looked worse in the daylight.</p><p>At night, there were places to hide. Nooks and crannies to stuff your thoughts. Places to bury lapses in judgment.</p><p>The daylight though? It hid nothing.</p><p>Every reason why liking Damian was wrong was illuminated. Age. Profession. Batman. Personalities. Batman. Consideration of the Wayne name. Batman.</p><p>The list was endless as it spun and expanded in Tim’s head. </p><p>Around 7:30 AM, Tim fell asleep. Exhaustion sending him over the edge. He emailed Tam that he needed to take a personal day before dozing off. He hadn’t taken a personal day in three months. She would understand. </p><p>Tim dreamt of nothing. Slept on the brink of waking as anxiety tugged him away from a proper REM cycle. He almost didn’t wake up when his phone buzzed. A security alert. Wiping the drool from his lip, he read the notification. </p><p>Damian was in his apartment building. </p><p>He squinted, decided it had to be a dream, and fell back against the pillow. A good ten seconds passed before he sprung up to his knees, clicking through the security footage. </p><p>Damian was in the elevator. Why was Damian in the elevator? Tim looked in the mirror above his wardrobe. Oh my god, he looked like shit. Pillow seam stitched into his cheek. Purple rimmed eyes. Ratty T-shirt. </p><p>His phone buzzed again. The footage of Damian walking down the hallway made his heart flutter. Tim chucked his phone and pulled off his shirt. No time to think, but just enough time to not look like a complete disaster. </p><p>Finding a clean shirt proved to be easy, but finding a clean shirt that didn't have a nerdy logo on it proved to be difficult. He settled on a band shirt and hopped on his bed to check if there were any stains on his leggings. </p><p>The comfort of Robin tights was a hard habit to break. </p><p>Catching his eye in the mirror he paused, and asked, “Why am I doing this?” Tim turned completely to get a full-body look. </p><p>“You don’t need to open the door,” he reminded. Tim searched his reflection for a decision.</p><p>The doorbell rang. </p><p>He could hide in his apartment, and never speak of his newly discovered crush, or he could face Damian, pretend everything is fine, and then hide in his room forever, etc. </p><p>The doorbell rang three times in succession. Persistent brat. No way Damian was going to leave without getting whatever he wanted.</p><p>“Fuck me,” Tim muttered as he hopped out of his bedroom.</p><p>He surveyed the mess in his living room as he walked over to enter his security code. At least his kitchen was clean. Tim could hear his heartbeat as the door unlocked.</p><p>His hand paused on the handle.</p><p>“Are you going to open the door or do you need me to help you figure it out?” Damian called. </p><p>Tim slung the door back, to glare at Damian. Annoyance, Tim could deal with. He knew the right facial expressions. </p><p>Being annoyed with Damian was a lot easier than admitting his subconscious was right.</p><p>Damian was a babe. </p><p>Standing in the doorway in a tight white T-shirt and jeans, he looked stunning. Simple but radiating. This was going to be harder than Tim thought.  </p><p>Said babe lifted one of his bags to obscure Tim’s vision. “Alfred made you soup. I volunteered to bring it over.” Tim struggled to hold his glare. “Though you don’t appear to be sick. Unkempt yes, but not sick.”</p><p>Tim pushed the bag to stare Damian’s stupidly handsome face down. “Mental health day.”</p><p>Damian’s quirked smile fell. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Tim collected his words carefully, “just needed to take a day off.”</p><p>“If I’d known it was a mental health day, I would have brought you something greasier.” Tim watched Damian divert his gaze past him. </p><p>Tim let loose the tension in his shoulders and stepped aside to let Damian come in. “Is it tomato soup?”</p><p>“It is.”</p><p>“Then you may enter.”</p><p>Tim turned before catching Damian’s expression. The fastest way to get out of this would be to pick a fight. Damian may be older but he was still easy to pick at. Tim couldn’t bring himself to do it though. Rarely was he the one to start a fight with Damian. Doing so now would simply raise suspicion. </p><p>He left Damian to take off his shoes and organize his bags. Tim grabbed two bowls, placed them on the countertop, and tried not to glance at Damian. Ok. One look. Just to confirm it wasn’t just an Instagram mind trick. Damian had really grown. All those years of crime-fighting built him into something out of a wet dream.</p><p>Damian caught him staring and spoke, “I know I'm not usually who you go to when things are diff-”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Tim interrupted. “Really nothing to talk about. Just needed to catch up on sleep and organize my thoughts a bit.”</p><p>“If you allow me, I may be able to help-”</p><p>“Please,” he started before thinking, “I would rather we didn’t.”</p><p>Damian’s mouth twitched. He held his words back, and Tim let him. “Ok,” Damian tutted. He placed the bag on the counter, removed the soup, and eyed the matching bowls. “Are you expecting us to eat in silence then?”</p><p>Tim huffed. “No. We can talk about something else.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“Like you.” Tim immediately hated himself. He turned to grab spoons and a train of thought. </p><p>“Me?” The sound of a barstool was heard. Damian was neatly perched and holding back a grin when Tim turned back.</p><p>“Yeah,” he started, “how’s life since graduation?”</p><p>Damian tilted his chin. </p><p>Tim pushed the spoon across the counter instead of handing it over like an adult. “What?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Damian responded, “just forgot how good you were at conversation.”</p><p>“I just woke up.”</p><p>“It’s noon.”</p><p>“I’m allowed to sleep in.”</p><p>“It’s noon.”</p><p>“Are you going to answer the question or not?” Tim grabbed the Tupperware before placing it in the microwave. </p><p>“Could you repeat it,” Damian cooed, “I forgot it upon hearing about your busy day.”</p><p>“I asked how your life has been since graduating,” Tim ground out. </p><p>“Fantastic,” Damian bemused, placing his hands under his chin. Tim felt his jaw unclench a bit.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I now have more time to ponder your riveting questions.” </p><p>Tim closed his eyes and titled his head back. His subconscious was wrong. Damian was not a babe. Damian was a menace. </p><p>“What would you like to talk about then?”</p><p>“Your life.”</p><p>“Damian.”</p><p>“Not about why you took a mental health day. Just about it in general. How have you been since my graduation?”</p><p>Tim searched his expression for a lick of dishonesty. </p><p>“Ok. I had a series of run-ins with the Riddler and had to go to space with Young Justice.”</p><p>“That’s always fun.”</p><p>“It was fine. Nothing exciting.”</p><p>“What about outside of the vigilante sphere?”</p><p>Tim leaned back and drummed his hands. “Also fine. Steph finally introduced me to her new boyfriend.”</p><p>Damian raised an eyebrow, “The cop?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Did you like him?”</p><p>“He’s nice,” Tim answered honestly. “Everything checked out. He’s not like secretly an assassin and past girlfriends didn’t really have complaints besides his obsession with his work.”</p><p>Damian’s smile spread, “you talked to his ex-girlfriends?”</p><p>“Someone had to.”</p><p>“No, they did not.”</p><p>“Well I had to,” Tim admitted knowing Damian would understand. “I just wanted to make sure he was a good guy.”</p><p>“Is he?”</p><p>“Yeah. Super safe. Good cop. Calls his mom.”</p><p>“Nothing alarming?”</p><p>“No. Nothing. Not even his porn habits go beyond doggy style.” </p><p>Damian’s laugh was deep and ignited Tim’s whole body. </p><p>“Is that what you were hoping for,” Damian started. “You wanted Brown’s new man to have a strange fetish?”</p><p>Tim could feel his skin begin to flush, “No. Honestly, I don’t know what I was looking for. I’m just happy, I didn’t find anything.”</p><p>“Does she know you stalked her boyfriend?”</p><p>“If she doesn’t, then she doesn’t know me.”</p><p>The microwave chimed and Tim grabbed a dishtowel. The soup was way too hot. </p><p>“You’ve always had a strange way of showing you care.” There was something in Damian’s tone that Tim refused to confront. </p><p>“Says you,” he bit back instead. Tim placed the Tupperware between them and waited for it to cool.</p><p>Damian didn’t respond. A few seconds passed. Tim, eventually, gave in. He looked at Damian. What he saw stilled his breath.</p><p>Focus. Such immense, white-hot, focus. </p><p>“How do I show it?” </p><p>Tim felt like he was about to burst. “What?”</p><p>“How do I show that I care?” </p><p>Tim tried to laugh it off, “Damian. I was just teas-”</p><p>“I’m serious,” he said leaning forward. “How do I show I care?” </p><p>Tim tried to play defense, “are you testing me?”</p><p>“I’m asking you.” Tim looked at the soup, then back at Damian. </p><p>“You meet people where they are,” Tim began, trying a touch of honesty this time. Just be a little honesty and Damian will drop it. “See what they like and then you get their attention through it. For Bruce, you show it by overdoing it on a case. For Dick, you show it by playing games.” </p><p>“Is that right?”</p><p>“At least from my perspective.” Tim glanced at the clock, decided the soup was cool enough and began to pour it in his own bowl. Alfred had outdone himself. It smelled amazing. </p><p>Damian waited for a beat before asking, “Then where should I meet you?” </p><p>Tim dropped the Tupperware. Clanging, the bowl flipped and soup splashed out across the counter and down the front of Tim’s shirt.</p><p>He glanced to see Damian had moved quickly enough to not get hit. Brat. Tim scowled as his skin began to burn. </p><p>“Are you al-”</p><p>“I’m fine!” </p><p>His own voice embarrassed him. His spoon teetered on the edge of the countertop. Tim smacked it down before it fell to join the mess on the floor. </p><p>Damian’s expression was hard. Not angry. Not sad. Stone-like and impenetrable. Tim did his best to meet it.</p><p>“Five.”</p><p>Tim rolled his bottom lip against his teeth. “What?”</p><p>“You’ve described yourself as ‘fine’ five times since I arrived.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“Things do not seem fine.” </p><p>Tim grabbed at the paper towel and ducked behind the counter to clean. “Well, it is. I’m sorry my vocabulary isn’t rich enough for you today.” </p><p>“Your vocabulary is more than sufficient. It’s your lying that’s unimpressive.” </p><p>“The only thing that’s unimpressive is your interrogation technique.” </p><p>“I am trying to be direct with you.”</p><p>“And how’s that working out? Maybe try being more subtle.”</p><p>Damian dropped to the floor in front of him, towel and cleaner in hand. How did he know where Tim's cleaning supplies were? “I have wasted enough time being subtle, Timothy.” </p><p>Tim’s head dropped as Damian dried the last of the soup. The silence pooled around them. Damian finished cleaning the floor and counter. </p><p>Tim stood in his own time, the light burning only felt when he tried to pull at his shirt. </p><p>“Take it off,” Damian commanded tossing the last sheet away. The smell of tomato wafted and Tim did as he was told. No more arguing. Damian wet a new towel. </p><p>Looking down Tim could see patches of red. None bad enough to leave a mark. Just annoying. He flinched when Damian pressed the towel to his skin. </p><p>“I’m fi-” Damian’s free hand snaked behind Tim’s back to hold him in place. His skin prickled under Damian’s palm. </p><p>“If you say fine again, I won’t hesitate to stuff this towel in your mouth.” Tim swallowed. </p><p>Every sensation melted awkwardly against him. Soup. Touch. Burning. Focus. “That’s not the worst idea.” Damian raised a brow as he dabbed another red patch. “You said it yourself. I’m not exactly a good conversationalist today.” Damian dropped his expression to meet Tim’s. </p><p>God, why were they so close? </p><p>“You’re having a bad mental health day,” Damian corrected and the guilt in Tim deepened. “You don’t have to be a good conversationalist. You don’t have to be fine. Just don’t lie to me.” </p><p>The corners of Tim’s mouth twitched. He pushed against Damian’s chest and stepped back. Damian let him go. “I never said thank you. For the soup, I mean. Thank you for bringing it, and for helping me clean it up, and for stopping my skin from burning off.”</p><p>“It was not hot enough for that.”</p><p>“Still, thank you.” </p><p>“It’s really no problem. I enjoy helping you.” Tim shuffled his feet as Damian’s eyes scanned his torso, and Tim crossed his arms. </p><p>“And that’s why you’ll be such a great doctor.” Damian’s gaze snapped back to Tim’s face. He squinted with something like disbelief. </p><p>Tim was all too aware of how much he was fidgeting as he began to speak again, “How about I get dressed, and order food? Then we can watch a movie or something.” </p><p>Damian tilted his head before echoing, “or something?” </p><p>Tim subdued any thrill that may have shot through his body. “Like a game?” </p><p>“A game?”</p><p>“A video game,” Tim huffed. “I still pick them up from time to time.” </p><p>Tim was about to walk to his bedroom when Damian answered with a definitive, “No.” </p><p>Tim held his arms a bit tighter. “No?”</p><p>“No. I don’t want to play video games nor do I want to watch a movie.” Damian walked back over to his belongings. Another bag?</p><p>Tim looked at his bedroom. “Right. Ok. Something else. In the meantime, I’m gonna go put on a shirt.” </p><p>“You don’t have to,” Damian said crouching down. </p><p>“I would prefer to.”</p><p>“I’ve seen you naked before.”</p><p>“That doesn’t mean I have to be shirtless right now.”</p><p>“Why are you uncomfortable? Isn’t this your apartment?”</p><p>“I don’t just walk around it shirtless.”</p><p>“Please,” Damian countered, “You used to be shirtless in the Manor all the time.” Standing back up, Tim felt that heat return. Damian was looking at him. Really looking at him. </p><p>“That was different.”</p><p>“Why was it different?” </p><p>“It didn’t feel like this.”</p><p>Damian’s nose crinkled. “Feel like what?”</p><p>“Intimate.” If Tim wasn’t so hell-bent on covering his chest, he would have tried to snatch those words back. Damian stopped walking. So close. He could touch him if he wanted to. He tried to bury the words, “Embarrassing. I meant embarrassing. This whole thing is-”</p><p>“This feels intimate,” Damian repeated. Tim was getting sick of this. Sick of having his words repeated back to him. Sick of being exposed. Sick of not wearing a shirt! He went to his bedroom. </p><p>“Yes. Ok. This feels intimate,” he called out rummaging through his closet. “I don’t like being watched.”</p><p>“That’s hypocritical.”</p><p>“Then I’m a hypocrite.”</p><p>“Don’t you like intimacy?” Damian asked following him in. </p><p>Tim ignored the question to pull on a Lord of the Rings shirt over his head.</p><p>“What if I were to make it more intimate?” Tim turned to see a framed photo of them from Damian’s birthday. Not the family. No other friends. Just them. </p><p>Tim remembered the moment. Damian tugged him by his collar and asked him to stand still. He had joked right before that this might be the only picture of just them to which Damian muttered something like ‘perhaps.’</p><p>But this. This wasn’t that picture exactly. The one Tim posed for was cliche. Arms over each other’s shoulders. Picture perfect Wayne smiles. It sat in Bruce’s study.</p><p>This. This photo must have been taken right after. While talking. Tim's mouth was half open and he was staring at Damian. Soft eyed with heavy sincerity. Damian’s skin was tinted. A light flush, probably in reaction to whatever Tim was saying. They both looked so happy. So at ease. </p><p>Tim asked without thinking “What was I saying?”</p><p>“You don’t remember?” Shrugging Tim looked back down. He tried to place the words but couldn’t. </p><p>Damian pouted before answering, “You said something along the lines of, ‘I’m really amazed at the person you’re becoming.” </p><p>Tim’s world is titled just a bit. “I said that?”</p><p>“You did.”</p><p>“Jeez.”</p><p>Tim pursed his lip. “What did you say after?” ”</p><p>“Thank you.” Tim frowned and Damian smiled once again. Full and mesmerizing. Tim couldn’t help but agree with what he said on Damian’s birthday. </p><p>“You’re a brat, you know that,” Tim fussed and stepped back.</p><p>“An amazing brat.” </p><p>Tim’s skin radiated. “Who took the picture?” </p><p>“Cassandra. She’s wonderful at capturing candid moments thanks to her expertise in body language. But she’s bad with the actual camera. Barbara touched it up.”</p><p>“Recruiting all the Batgirls. Where does Steph fit in?”</p><p>“Nowhere. She’s too loyal to you and would have ruined the surprise.”</p><p>“Damn straight.” Tim plopped down on his bed. The day’s emotions and lack of sleep pulled at him. “Thank you, Damian. It’s a great photo.”</p><p>“I'm sure you could take a better one,” Damian said holding the photo out for Tim. </p><p>“You don’t have to flatter me.” Tim took the gift and absorbed its warmth a second time. They really did look good together. </p><p>“I’m not. I would love for you to stage our next photo. With your expertise, I’m sure it will be stunning.”</p><p>Tim’s foot began to tap in thought. This photo was taken about 9 months ago. That was around the same time Damian increased his social media presence. Maybe that was the key? One good candid photo and Damian became obsessed? Wanted Tim to help craft his online profiles.</p><p>Damian sat down next to him. “What are you thinking?” </p><p>“Don’t laugh,” Tim mocked his own words, “but I noticed you’ve been posting on social media more.” </p><p>Damian stopped looking at him. “Yes.” </p><p>“Does it have to do with this photo?”</p><p>“In a way, yes.”</p><p>Tim hummed as Damian stared at the wall. “It’s nice. You should post it for a throwback.”</p><p>“Perhaps.”</p><p>“I can help you drive up those likes if you want.”</p><p>“Engagement was not my goal.”</p><p>“Oh,” Tim leaned back and drummed his fingers on the mattress. “Just creative expression?”</p><p>“No. It was for attention.”</p><p>“But not for likes?”</p><p>Damian’s shoulders clenched and Tim suddenly noticed how tightly Damian was holding his own hands. White knuckled, he answered, “it was for one person’s attention.”</p><p>Tim did not allow himself to feel disappointed. He had just realized his apparent ‘amazing’ crush. He wasn’t allowed to be sad it didn’t work out. Shouldn’t work out. </p><p>“Who’s the lucky-“</p><p>“Are you playing stupid or are you truly this oblivious?” Damian was suddenly back in Tim’s space. Body twisted knee on the bed. </p><p>“Excuse me-”</p><p>“How do I show I care?” </p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I asked you earlier. How do I show I care?”</p><p>Tim’s eyes widened as the dots connected in the long silence.</p><p>How does Damian show he cares? He meets people where they are. Where was Tim 80%-90% of the day? Online. </p><p>Wow. He really was oblivious. </p><p>Damian flopped back on the bed. He pressed the palms of his hand into his closed eyes. “Why grandfather calls you detective is beyond me. I have tried being subtle. I have tried being straightforward. How have you seriously not figured it out?” </p><p>“I did figure it out,” Tim answered.</p><p>”No. You didn’t. You’re clearly incapable.”</p><p>Tim twisted now to pull a knee up on the bed. “No, I just figured it out.” Damian dropped his arms. He was exhausted and Tim felt a pang of sympathy. This was his fault. </p><p>“Then say it.”</p><p>“You upped your social media presence to get my attention.”</p><p>“Yes,” Damian’s green eyes glistened, “and?”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“Do I have it?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Your attention.”</p><p>Tim stared at Damian. All of him. Every bit of him. Every joke, comment, picture, and moment in front of him - like a timeline. Tim saw it all. Liked it all. Even the parts that should scare him. </p><p>“Yes,” Tim breathed out.</p><p>The hint of a smile began on Damian’s tired features. “And how can I keep it?”</p><p>Tim let go. Felt all that being with Damian had to offer. Every terrifyingly amazing bit. </p><p>“Kiss me.”</p><p>“Finally,” Damian lifted a hand to Tim, curled his finger against his neck and tugged. Tim fell into him. </p><p>The angle should be awkward but as they moved closer, their lips easily found each other. Once. Twice. Tim shivered as Damian’s hand skittered down his side. Upon finding his hip he pushed encouraging Tim to lift and straddle him. </p><p>Tim didn’t think, just followed the sway of Damian’s palm, his lips, and the sound of satisfaction as Tim settled on top of him. He was smiling. Damian was smiling and Tim kissed him harder. Smoothed his lower body down and boxed in Damian’s head with his forearms. </p><p>Damian used both hands to hold Tim’s hips as he lifted his own knees. Pressing from his heels, Damian ground up and Tim pulled back from the kissing to catch himself. What came was obscene. </p><p>Tim, who normally thought of himself to be rather quiet in the bedroom, moaned. </p><p>He grimaced at his own enjoyment. Holy hell was he really this touch starved? Some light kissing and basic dry humping made him moan like a teenager? Tim opened his eyes to see Damian had too stopped. </p><p>His pupils blown wide, skin flushed, but mouth still held. Tim pushed up to sit and averted his gaze, overwhelmed with worry. He couldn’t do this. Shouldn’t do this. Tim shifted to remove himself from Damian’s lap only to be gripped harder and pushed him back in place. “Why do you do that?”</p><p>“Do what?”</p><p>“Run,” Damian started. “The second you start to let go, you stop yourself, and retreat.”</p><p>“I don’t.”</p><p>“Then look at me.” Tim blinked at the wall before doing what was asked. Damian’s thumb circled his hip bone, and Tim steadied his breath, easing his growing hard-on. Damian’s gaze flickered down before his right hand shifted to palm  him. Tim could feel his skin light up. Damian slowly began to grind his hips up, forcing Tim to feel the friction. A jolt of pleasure shot through him as he gasped, and closed his eyes. “Open your eyes.” </p><p>“Damian.”</p><p>“Do it.”</p><p>Tim looked back down but struggled to hold the focus. He had never been watched like his. In the past his partners let Tim run. Let him take his time. Retreat into his head. Build to things like direct eye contact but oh my god, Damian’s hand slipped under Tim’s shirt and sat up. His eyes searching Tim’s face.</p><p>“How does it feel?” Damian’s breathiness heated Tim’s chest. “Being watched. Being seen. Aren’t you normally the one watching?” His hand climbed up the back of Tim’s shirt as he began to kiss along Tim's jaw. “A stalker right? That’s what they call you.” </p><p>Tim's hands moved to wrap behind Damian as he rose to meet him, one hand still pressed on his erection. Tim felt trapped between his legs and chest. Consumed by Damian’s body and attention. </p><p>“I love watching you,” Damian kissed his way from Tim’s mouth to ear. “Seeing how you move when you think no one is watching. You think you’re invisible Timothy.” Damian punctuated his sentence with a bite and Tim bit back a whimper of his own. </p><p>“But I see you.” Damian palmed Tim’s cheek and turned his head back to meet him. Face to face. Tim wanted to hide, but the excitement in Damian stopped him. “I want you.” </p><p>“Jesus Damian,” Tim breathed out, “where did you learn to talk like that?”</p><p>“I’ve thought about this for a long time. Thought of watching you come undone under my touch.”</p><p>“Have you,” Tim swallowed, “done this before?”</p><p>Damian scowled, “Yes. And you?”</p><p>Tim felt his nose twitch “Yes.”</p><p>“Good.” Damian pushed his knees to force Tim as close as possible without allowing their lips to touch, “But know I’m going to make you forget anything that came before me.”</p><p>Tim was about to comment on how harlequin that sounded before Damian flipped them both. As his back hit the bed, Damian’s lips hit his own. </p><p>Tim forgot someone could kiss him like this. Obsessive. Passionate. He was lightheaded before Damian even bit down on his lower lip. </p><p>It had been years since Tim kissed like this. Like there was nothing else to do. Nothing else they could do. Nothing else worth doing. He could barely keep up, letting Damian push his chin aside to nibble on his earlobe. His toes curled as he gasped in a desperate attempt to steady himself. His legs spread wider confirming that such control had already been lost. </p><p>Damian’s hands pushed up and under his shirt. Tim let himself be undressed. Shirt and leggings.  Shook his head before flopping naked back onto the bed. Tim stared at the dresser. His eyes already hooded, his senses overwhelmed. A faint buzzing of pleasure numbing his mind. </p><p>“Timothy,” Damian started, and Tim looked. Damian was sitting back. His own shirt discarded. God those shoulders. No Instagram pic could compare to the real thing. Damian’s chest was flushed. His skin had started to glisten and as Tim’s eyes glazed down, his mouth went dry at the sight of Damian’s bulge. </p><p>“Understand now?” Damian’s mouth quirked and Tim drew in a full breath, watching Damian palm himself. “This is what you do to me. I’ve been aching for you, Timothy.” </p><p>“God, Damian,” Tim covered half his face, “you don’t have to say all this.”</p><p>“Say what?”</p><p>“All this. This flattery. I’m here. I’m ready. I’m-”</p><p>“You still don’t believe it,” Damian’s hands reached to hook under Tim’s knees. “You miss so much while inside your head. Miss how badly the world around you wants you to come out. Miss how often I’ve wanted you.” He hitched Tim’s legs upon his shoulders, to grab at his ass and Tim bit back a moan. “How often I’ve thought of kissing you. Folding you and fucking you.” Damian began to unbuckle his pants, and the sound of leather rang like thunder in Tim’s ears. He rose a bit but Tim held his legs on those shoulders. Not wanting to let go. </p><p>He turned to bit down on Tim’s calf as he pushed his pants off, “Watching you stretch with Grayson was a nightmare. Watching you disappear into a screen when I was trying to get your attention was worse.” Damian’s hands returned to Tim’s hope as he began to pull off those leggings. “The ultimate prize I decided, was your undivided attention.” </p><p>Tim knew how hard he was. Could see how perfect Damian’s cock was. Feel how badly he was aching for this. Damian’s words pinned him in place.</p><p>He would do anything to keep Damian’s dedication. This attention. This admiration, Tim knew to be addictive. </p><p>The boy often left behind adored by a prince? This was a story Tim would chase for centuries.</p><p>Damian began to lower his mouth, kissing and biting along the inner parts of Tim's legs. His body sprawled out, stomach down on the mattress. His hands held Tim’s hips in place as he began to fidget under the attention. “Damian,” he whimpered.</p><p>“Keep talking,” Damian answered pulling Tim’s thighs apart. The precum of beading at the top of his cock. </p><p>“Oh, you’re so good Damian.” The words spilled between them. Messy and shaking from Tim’s lips. He was always one for control, even in the bedroom but that control came from measured silence. “I’m falling apart here. I don’t know what to say.”</p><p>“Say what you want me to do.”</p><p>Tim reached up to push his hair back and squeezed his eyes shut. His desires. His wants. His back arched as Damian’s mouth heated the tip of his cock. “I want you to suck my dick, but don’t let me cum.” Tim refused to look down as he spoke but instead dug his heels into Damian’s back. “I’ll tell you when I’m close. When I do, stop sucking and then fuck me.”</p><p>“You won’t be ready for that.”</p><p>“I will,” Tim pushed up so quickly to grab at his nightstand, that even Impulse would be impressed. He rummaged, snatched, and held out a bottle of lube for Damian. “You’re clean?”</p><p>Damian blinked at him, “Of course, I’m clean.”</p><p>Tim flopped back down before Damian. “While you suck me off, I’ll open myself up. That way you can fuck me any way you want.”</p><p>Damian’s eyes went wide. Tim bit the inside of his cheek. Maybe he had gone too far.</p><p>A beat passed before he watched Damian reach forward to flick open the top of the lube. The predatory grin that spread across his face sent shivers down Tim’s spine. “Better get to work then.”</p><p>Damian pushed himself back to lick a stripe up his pulsing cock. Tim dropped back in pure bliss as Damian’s tongue lapped at his precum. </p><p>Before losing himself Tim did his best to keep his promise, drizzling lube on his fingers and curving his back so he could reach under himself. Damian took a moment to watch. His dark eyes glistening with want. Tim never felt sexier as his finger began to slick up his entrance. </p><p>Damian wet his lips and helped to lift Tim’s hip a bit so he can begin to press into himself. “Dami,” Tim whimpered and his trance was broken. </p><p>Damian was breathing heavily. His own body wound as tight as Tim’s. He pushed Tim’s right leg between his shoulder and ear, wrapping his arm’s way to Tim’s cock. He licked another trail, flattening his tongue against the underside of his dick. Tim swore his brain was on fire. </p><p>With no warning, Damian took Tim in his mouth. He squeezed hard at the base and sucked, dragging his tongue along the length. Tim threw his head back and pressed his finger inside. </p><p>With how good Damian was he didn’t have much time. He wanted Damian around him. Inside him. He wanted to be smothered. Fucked. Sucked. He pressed a second finger in. “Fuck. You’re amazing Damian. Just like that.” The rhythm of a mouth on his cock and two fingers inside him was extraordinary. </p><p>He gripped at the bedsheets and reviled in how perfectly his dick throbbed in Damian’s mouth. He added a third finger and whined. He wouldn’t make it. He was so close. His dry spell now felt like a curse as his body began to shutter and suddenly all sensation was gone. </p><p>Damian grabbed his wrist, pulling his fingers out of his ass. Tim lay aching as he winced at Damian who was maneuvering himself from below Tim’s legs. He let go of Tim’s wrist.</p><p>Tim bit down on his lips as his hips circled in need. Damian reached for the lube Tim had tossed aside. Tim’s hand itches to touch himself. </p><p>“Don’t,” Damian commanded reading his mind. “You told me what you wanted.” Damian coated his cock and Tim moaned openly at the sight.</p><p>He no longer cared about what he was used to hearing in the bedroom. If this was who he was under Damian’s touch, so be it. The whole experience was too good to spoil with worry. </p><p>“Breathe.” Tim did as he was told, edging off his impending orgasm. “I promise to make it worth the wait.”</p><p>“How long?” Tim asked without thinking. “How long have you wanted this?”</p><p>Damian swallowed harshly as his eyes shifted away from Tim. So much for being able to handle intimacy. They were the same in that way. </p><p>“There is no one moment I can pin it to,” Damian focused on repositioning Tim’s legs to be back on his shoulders as he spoke. “Our lives have been intertwined in such a way that I couldn’t help but become enamored with you. What about you?”</p><p>Tim shimmed his hips lower for Damian to get better access. “I never allowed myself to have full thoughts. Half ones spring up regularly. Subconsciously. But I didn’t let myself feel them. Only yesterday did I really realize what I wanted.”</p><p>Damian’s eyes sparkled, “yesterday?”</p><p>Tim hummed as Damian’s fingers found his entrance once again. Testing the rim, he pressed first one finger in. “I have a program,” Tim admitted. “That tells me how long I spend on certain websites.” A second finger and Tim’s spine turned to jelly. </p><p>“And?”</p><p>“And it turns out,” he readied for ridicule, “that I spend a stupid amount of time on your social media profiles.”</p><p>Damian stopped to look Tim in the eye. “You’re not lying.”</p><p>“I’m not lying.”</p><p>“Then my efforts to-”</p><p>Tim pushed on his forearms to meet Damian’s face between his legs. “Were worth it. Though looking at you I would have eventually come to the same conclusions.” </p><p>Damian grinned, “That would have taken an eternity.” They kissed and Tim thanked every flexibility training he had ever undergone. The chaste caress of lips soon heated up again, as Damian twisted his fingers. </p><p>Tim’s head hit the sheets as Damian folded him, aligning his cock and pulling out his fingers. Tim nodded when Damian’s eyes asked permission. </p><p>Heavy lidded he began to press into Tim. A small jolt of pain quickly shifted into pleasure as Damian slid into him. His ankles hooking behind Damian’s head, easing him down, till he was as deep as possible. </p><p>Damian groaned before coming face to face again with Tim. For a moment they held each other and then Damian braced his hands to shift back. Both their moans of appreciation echoed. </p><p>“Timothy,” Damian breathed, “know this cannot be the only time we do this.”</p><p>Tim looked back with blatant honesty, “I don’t think I could live without it.” That seemed to do it, as Damian bit back a face splitting grin before pulling back to properly fuck Tim. </p><p>Hot. Tight. Whole. Tim knew he had never had sex like his. Nails on skin bent in half, and loud. So loud. The skin, the moans. His name and Damian's. </p><p>Savoring the sensation, he allowed Damian to pound into him. Encouraging. Pleading.</p><p>“Timothy,” Damian called. He sounded desperate and broken and pride blossomed inside of Tim. He did that. He brought Damian to begging. “You’re so tight.”</p><p>“And you’re so fucking good Damian.”</p><p>Damian rolled his hips and pulled apart Tim’s legs to spread him wider. The hot stretch before the piston of hips shook Tim to his core. White-hot warmth surging up his body, “I’m so close,” he admitted. </p><p>“I am,” Damian breathlessly tried to agree, “as well.” The next thrust seemed to crush any tiny semblance of control they still had. Any cadence became frantic as they both gripped and plunged back into each other.</p><p>Tim’s muscles clamped down on Damian as he came. Came harder than he could remember. His normally muffled orgasm was out. Open, and the sound seemed to ignite a final wind in Damian as he fucked himself over the edge as well.</p><p>The angle was perfect for Tim to watch Damian’s face twist in pleasure. Ever twitch frozen in Tim’s memory to be adored at a later date. The brat was truly something stunning. </p><p>Those final strokes shook them both as Damian bent Tim for one last kiss. They both shivered at the soft press of lips. Understanding Tim would soon be uncomfortable Damian unfolded them both and Tim ignored the knowledge that he was covered in cum. Damian seemed to ignore it as well as he settled against Tim’s side. </p><p>Cuddling. Damian moved Tim's arm to embrace him as he settled his cheek on Tim's still heaving chest. It was not the biggest surprise of the day. </p><p>Time stilled, waiting for Damian and Tim to decide if it could continue.</p><p>“Hey Damian,” Tim began not caring how stupid he was about to sound. Damian hummed, encouraging Tim to continue. “How’d you know to come over today?”</p><p>“Tt. You liked my beach pic.”</p><p>Tim smacked his face with his spare hand, “aw nuts really?”</p><p>“You’re not the only one who can set up alerts,” Damian pinched his stomach before sitting up to kiss Tim. Lazily they indulged in the slow movement of each other's lips. No desperation needed. They had this. They would do this again. </p><p>Reluctantly, Damian stood up to grab a towel. Second time today, Damian had cleaned him up, Tim mused to himself. </p><p>Tim kissed Damian’s fingers as thanks, loving the way Damian’s skin went red. They had just fucked but this touch seemed to melt the youngest Robin. </p><p>Damian began to reach for his pants when Tim spoke up, “Do you have to be somewhere?”</p><p>“No,” Damian answered, “but don’t you have things-”</p><p>“I still have the rest of the day off. You should stay.”</p><p>Damian’s tiniest smile flashed. “I supposed I can stay.” Tim rolled to his side, shifting the blanket and pat the space next to him encouraging Damian to be the little spoon. He did so with fake annoyance. </p><p>Hazily Tim kissed Damian's shoulders and muttered another thank you. Damian pushed back into Tim’s arms, settling under the blanket. </p><p>Tim did not think in that time. Didn’t worry. Didn’t try to optimize his life. He just laid with Damian in blank warmth. They were both teetering  on the edge of sleep when Tim’s stomach growled. </p><p>“When was the last time you ate?” Damian snapped flipping in Tim’s arms.</p><p>“Oh um. Yesterday like around 5.”</p><p>Damian sat up, tugging Tim with him. “You’re a disaster. You need to eat.”</p><p>Tim smiled as Damian forced him to get dressed. He could really get used to learning first hand, how Damian showed he cared.</p>
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